No Need To Sleep, We Come Alive
by BurningMandala
Summary: "His heartbeats were her lullaby". Post 'The Name of the Doctor', prior to 'The Day of the Doctor.' Established relationship between Clara and the Doctor. WARNING: Smut. The rating says M. Don't like, don't read. For those of you who do read, you're fabulous, thank you.


Author's note: Post Trenzalore, prior 50th anniversary. Though, I will say, the Doctor's monologue at the end of the episode, about Clara asking him if he dreams, this story is based on that. Also something to know, they have an established romantic relationship.

Thank you to those that have read things I've written. It means a lot. This is unbeta'd. All errors and mistakes are my own.

Reviews and constructive criticism are always _so_ appreciated. So, please. It's motivation.

**Warning**: RATED M. Smut. Explicit smut.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything associated to Doctor Who.

* * *

Clara didn't know what time it was, or even what day it was. Everything was so different when you spent so much time in the TARDIS. But it was nice. She was going to be starting a job as a teach soon, teaching literature. The Maitland's had found a new nanny, so, now, most of Clara's time was spent with the Doctor since she had free time for the time being. It delighted him. She'd moved into her own flat and it was accustomed for both of them. Though, when they stayed in the TARDIS, which absolutely was a snog box now, time moved slowly. It felt like they had forever and it was a wonderful feeling.

She was awake now, she could feel the Doctor's eyes on her. They were in her bedroom, the one that the TARDIS hadn't misplaced for a long time. The TARDIS seemed to like Clara now. It was still a little creepy to her, but she would talk to the machine every so often, tell it that it's done a good job when it's landed them in the right place and time. It makes the Doctor happy, to see his the two most important girls in his life getting along. It really is sort of creepy.

Her back was to him and her eyes were still closed, but his movement had woken her from her slumber. Before, he had both arms around her, with her nestled tightly against him. It was difficult for her to sleep without him these days, especially after Trenzalore. He never left her side after that, sometimes it felt like her life was burning and terrible nightmares plagued her sleep and he would hold her throughout the night. Whispering comforting things, gently stroking her hair and kissing her forehead every so often.

_You're still alive._

_You're still here._

_I'm still here._

_I've got you._

_We're okay._

The simple words, small sentences, but his voice always calmed her. Their inseparability changed somewhere along the time of recovery from Trenzalore. His being with her stopped being about comforting her and evolved into him needing her just as much. She would never say she needed him, though she did, but it made her feel vulnerable. He told her so often, that he wouldn't be here today if it hadn't been for her. Sometimes he was angry that she sacrificed herself in such a way for him. A silly, daft old man. A man that kept past companions waiting for years, a man that wouldn't always stay. A man that took the people he cared about so deeply into some of the most dangerous situations. Sometimes just so he could be the hero.

However, Clara was his hero. She had told him that there was no point in talking her out of going to Trenzalore. She knew it would be dangerous, but she was a grown up, she could make her own decision. But the mentions of the Dalek asylum and Victorian London had brought past memories flooding back. Memories she wasn't sure were her own. Of course they were though. Jumping into his time stream was entirely her choice and she would do it over and over again for every life she ever lived if it meant he would live, as well. The fact of the matter was, though, she wasn't meant to survive such an event and nor was he when he entered his own timeline to get her. He didn't want to think of a life without her. Crossing your own timeline was something a Time Lord was never meant to do. This was his Clara, though. The rules didn't matter at that point.

The Doctor had his elbow on the pillow, propping himself up a bit, his head resting on his hand. He hovered over her a bit, his face looking down on her.

"I know you're awake, Clara," humor masking his voice.

"Because I can feel you staring at me, do you ever sleep? Or do you just spend all night watching me? That's a bit creepy, Doctor." Her voice was rough with sleep and she was a little grumpy. She'd only just woken and she was already being sassy with him. He loved it, to be honest. He wouldn't change a thing about her. Perfect in every way for him, from the moment they started running together he knew she was special. She'd been an enigma and now, she wasn't so much impossible as she was the woman he never wanted to keep any secrets from. He's once told her that secrets keep him safe. How wrong he'd been. They were so exposed to each other after Trenzalore and it was the safest either of them had ever felt.

"Of course I sleep, Clara, don't be silly. A few hours a month. Time Lord DNA, it's not something I need like humans. Eight hours a night? It's absurd." She rolled her eyes at him.

"When you sleep, do you ever dream?" she inquired, genuinely curious.

"Of course I dream," he answered, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, "Everybody dreams."

"What do you dream about?"

"The same thing everybody dreams about, Clara. I dream about where I'm going," she laughed at that. A reaction that he wasn't expecting to get.

"But you're not going anywhere, you're just wandering about," she mentions.

He groans in a bit of frustration. She's right, he supposes.

"There's so much out there to see, Clara. So much to run to and besides, I have you with me. You're wandering with me. That's all I need for now."

They both knew that in the end, his real end, Trenzalore was his destination. It would be the fall of him and he wouldn't survive it. Not this version of himself, anyway. They didn't talk about it. Time was everywhere, all around them. The past, the present, the future. For now, they could go anywhere they liked and they would savor the time they had together.

"You know I love you, right?" Clara said quietly. "I've seen all of you. All your faces. I love you for who you are, for what you do for all the planets out there, what you do for me. Your age, your face - none of it matters. You're the Doctor. You're my Doctor. I know you'll change. I know your personality will alter and, yes, this is face of yours I first saw," she stroked his face, ran her finger across the outline of that ridiculous chin she loved so much, "and the one I fell in love with but you'll be you. I'll be with you as long as time allows. As long as you want."

"And I love you. I searched for you for so long, Clara and I finally found you and I never want to let you go. When I-" he hesitated, voice strained, "when the time comes that I regenerate, don't let me push you away. Don't let me do it. I've lost so many people, I've become bitter over my long life and the losses have been terrible, but don't let me lose you," he pleaded.

She turned to face him properly now, no words spoken back to him, she just kissed his lips gently. A soft kiss, one that conveyed comfort.

It didn't feel like enough, though, not right now. She wasn't close enough and he needed her, desperately. The Doctor brought his face closer to hers and kissed her, deeper, passionately. He nibbled and sucked on her bottom lip as he moved their positions a bit so she was properly beneath him.

A past thought made her giggle for a moment, before they started sleeping together, she always imagined that he wore his tweed jacket, button up, bow tie, trousers, and shoes whenever he would rest on a sofa or a bed. But no, he owned a pair of plaid pajama pants he would wear to bed and when she slept, she could always feel his bare chest through the thin material she wore. She could feel the steady beats of his hearts against her back and when she would lie her head on his chest, they would always lure her to sleep. His heartbeats were her lullaby.

She wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him closer to her and tearing their lips apart to kiss chin, jaw line, neck. She could feel his hardness and he pressed against her center, eliciting a moan from her. Her hands were everywhere but she moved them down to the tie on his pants and undid it. before she could get his pants off, he leaned up and brought her with him, so he could remove the slip she was wearing.

She reached her hand down his pants to stroke his member gently, so as to tease him, and he let out a gasp. He places kisses along her breasts, squeezing them as he attached his lips to hers again. Tongues mingling together. She stroked him again.

"Clara," he let out breathlessly as a warning, "No teasing."

She giggled softly, "Then get on with it, chin boy."

He didn't need to be told twice, he removed his remaining clothing, ran hand over her damp panties, dipping a finger beneath the offending garment. He entered a finger, feeling her wetness and rubbing over her most sensitive spot.

She groaned, frustrated, "Okay, who's doing the teasing now?"

"Sorry, love" he grinned. That grin always melted her insides.

He removed her underwear and melded their lips together, entering her roughly and without warning, he always reveled in the feeling of her tight around him. She gasped against his lips and he kissed her cheeks. As always, he kept still for her, so she could adjust, before he would move his hips against hers. Always starting slowly, and they would meet thrust for thrust, so in sync.

Their movements and breathing became erratic. Handing having no destination, his hands running through her hair, cupping hear breasts, touching anywhere he could. Her hands clinging to his back, leaving marks. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and tightened her legs around his waist when she found herself building to climax and he quickened his pace. She came quietly, with heavy breaths echoing in his ear. It was one of his favorite sounds. Her gasping breaths, her almost unintelligible murmers of _I love you, _after a few more thrusts he collapsed against her.

He moved his arms underneath her and flipped them around so she was lying against his chest. That wonderful rhythm of his hearts drumming against his ears. She couldn't help but smile. He smoothed some of the hair that had become plastered to her face.

"You are so beautiful, Clara" he was looking at her in awe, like he'd seen her for the first time. Though, he had one of these moments nearly everyday.

She placed a kiss on his chin, "You're beautiful, too. Such a beautiful man. No matter what you look like. You're the love of my life."

"And you, mine. Also the savior of my lives," he kissed her cheek, holding him to her tightly, "Did you want to do anything today? Have a picnic on this planet I visited once? It was covered in flowers. Literally a planet of flowers. With fairies. Alien fairies, of course. Quite magical, thought, I think you'd like it."

Clara shook her head, "I know it's hard for you to just relax sometimes, Doctor, but maybe we could just spend the day in bed. We don't have to relax," she smirked at him and he understood.

"I do think I can handle a day in here with you. Most definitely. Yes."

"Down boy. There's such a thing as too keen. Just hold me for a bit. I'm human, remember? Then yes, we can get on with the fun stuff."

So he held her and soon after, she fell asleep, his hearts singing to her and he just watched her, his Clara. Content as ever.


End file.
